Intoxication Investigation
by Lilybud the Storyteller
Summary: After an unwise night spent at the Purgatory, Tali needs to be picked up by a certain blue-eyed turian. Garrus tries to find out what had motivated his friend to go to the bar in the first place. During a conversation that's longer than the usual elevator ride, the friends find themselves reminiscing with one another about past decisions and harbored doubts.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Mass Effect series or its characters.**

**Also fair warning: Despite what the title/summary may suggest, there is nothing a tween couldn't read in here. Now that's cleared up, let's get into the story!**

**"Intoxication Investigation"**

**A Mass Effect fanfiction story**

**By, Lilybud the Storyteller**

* * *

"Is it just me, or does that light seem to be flashing slower than the others?" Tali'Zorah tilted her head back, watching in a trance as the light above her quickly dimmed and then brightened in a pulsating, lively rhythm. The air was hot and moist, reeking of sweat from all of the people bopping on the dance floor. Everything was bathed in the misty multi-colored lights that zigzagged over the dancers' faces. Pounding music that sounded more like screaming than singing thundered in the quarian's ears, sending adrenaline rushing through her blood system.

The bar's server, a salarian whose name Tali had forgotten almost immediately after hearing it, seemed bored by the question. It was obvious that What's-His-Name had worked one too many night shifts. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said in a deadpan tone.

"Oh," Tali mumbled. She felt slightly disappointed even though she forgot what was asked in the first place. The world seemed to sway a little as she leaned heavily against the bar's counter. "Can I have another drink, _pleeeease_?"

What's-His-Name frowned. "I do not think that would be wise. Your filtering units will be exhausted from the numerous amounts of alcoholic beverages that you have already consumed."

Tali slowly blinked.

The bartender sighed before speaking in a deliberate tone, as if talking to a child who refused to listen. "No. More. Drinks. For. You."

"Oh, c'mon!" she drawled. "One _teensy_ drink won't hurt anybody. It will be our little secret." The quarian leaned forward in her seat and winked at What's-His-Name, only to remember that the wink wouldn't be visible from behind her mask.

What's-His-Name's frown only deepened. "No."

"I agree with the pretty lady," a voice said from behind. "One more drink won't hurt anybody."

Tali turned around to see a man whom she didn't recognize. Sizing him up and down, she thought that he was rather handsome by human standards—all sharp angles, broad shoulders, and a charming smile. As he sauntered over to the adjacent chair, she spotted a sleight of hand when he passed the bartender several credits.

"How 'bout another round?" He smirked.

The bartender looked down, obviously checking to see if the money was real, before giving the man a sly smile. "Absolutely."

A moment later, What's-His-Name placed two glasses on the counter, poured a bright purple liquid into each, then slid the drinks to them. Holding the plastic port steady, Tali sneaked a glance at the human. Even though he was a different species, she recognized the gleam in his eyes immediately.

"Thanks for the drink, um…"

"Donnie Robinson," he said, holding his out hand. "And what's the pretty lady called?"

Tali chuckled as she took his hand, shaking it once before letting go. "Tali'Zorah vas Normandy."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "You're joking."

"Nope."

"Really? So wait, you mean you're actually—"

"The one and only."

Donnie's grin widened as he leaned forward. She fought down the urge to scoot her seat away, just a little.

"Wow, that's pretty impressive." He set the heavy weight of his gaze on her until it was all she could focus on. "You know, they say that you've been traveling with Shepard since the beginning, helping her save the universe and everything. You've become quite a role model 'round here."

"Nah." The quarian shook her head. A blush heated her face, though she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol alone. "It's all Shepard's doing," she insisted uncomfortably. "I just mess around with the engine. Shoot some stuff every now and then, fix a few wires—that's all."

"You're being too modest." Donnie nudged her on the arm, lingering just a moment longer for it to be more than just friendly. "You should hear the stories being passed around of your adventures, of all your heroic deeds. Like how you were fighting to stop Saren even before you joined Shepherd, or how you're leading your flotilla when they need you the most."

A stab came with his words, even though it wasn't his intention. Tali pushed the hurt away and covered it with a quick laugh. Even though it wasn't genuine, it felt good as the involuntary motion gently shook her body. She said, "That stuff sounds pretty good when it's coming from you."

"And it sounds even better when it's coming from me," a too-familiar voice said from beside her.

Tali twisted in her seat, mentally wishing that people would stop talking behind her so she wouldn't have to turn around every second.

Standing there with arms crossed against his chest in his usual fashion was Garrus. His blue eyes sparkled with mirth when he saw her, but hardened to ice when he regarded the human sitting close by.

He casually placed a hand on the back of Tali's chair. "Hey, baby, sorry I'm late. Got caught up in traffic."

It took a moment for the words to process in Tali's hazy mind, and when the pieces finally snapped together, Donnie was already rising from his seat, his posture suddenly tense and defensive.

"Hey, get your own girl," he snapped, glaring at the turian. "We're talking here."

Garrus seemed only amused by this. "Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me not to introduce myself. Name's Vakarian—as in, Garrus Vakarian."

Almost immediately Donnie's face grew pale as recognition hit. Apparently he was not only familiar with Tali, but her turian associate as well. "You're—you're _him_?"

"If you mean the badass whose known for shooting people in the forehead before they can even say their prayers, all while coming up with brilliant one-liners, then yes."

"R-r-right," stuttered Donnie, his bravado quickly fading. "I think I'll be leaving now."

Tali watched him hastily flee the bar. She raised her glass in his direction and yelled, _"Bosh'tet!"_

A low chuckle drew her attention back to the turian. Tali squinted up at his amused expression. "Why is it people are afraid of you, but not of me?" she grumbled with a slight slur. "That is _sooo_ unfair. I'm plenty scary. Right..?"

"Oh, blood chilling," Garrus agreed with a sparkle in his eyes.

Tali dejectedly looked down at her drink, swishing the thin port back and forth through the flamboyant liquid. "Now you're just making fun of me… Hmm…it must be the suit. People aren't intimated by it. Maybe I could print on some scary designs. Shepard has that dragon print on her armor—but no, I want something scarier than a overgrown lizard..."

"You could always put a picture of a krogan's testicles on the front," Garrus pointed out. "That would scare off just about anyone."

"Wrex would _kill_ me though…" Tali mused. Then, as if remembering something important, she abruptly straightened in her seat. "Wait a minute…why are you here again? Did I invite you? I don't remember inviting you…"

"You called me to pick you up about fifteen minutes ago." At her puzzled look, the turian sighed and pressed a few buttons on his omni-tool. It took only a moment for a recording of Tali's voice to play. Behind her mask, the quarian's face burned as she listened to the repeating of her own voice requesting to be picked up from the Purgatory. Unfortunately, some of the meaning was lost due to a large amount of word slurring, irregular inflections, and the occasional burst of giggles. _Do I really sound like that?_ she thought.

"Yes, and you still do," Garrus said. Tali blushed even further when she realized she'd just said her thoughts aloud.

"I don't remember sending a message."

"That's because you're drunk. Now come on, let's get you back to the ship."

"What if I don't wanna?" Taking a casual sip from her drink, a strange giddiness spread through Tali that made her want to act daring and rebellious, even while under the scrutiny of the turian's icy gaze. This new confidence made her feel she'd just injected too much omni-gel into her system. Or maybe that was the alcohol…

Either way, the hazy lights and the warm atmosphere were starting to become _verrry_ comfortable. Did she really have to leave now? Turians have such bad timing…

A stubborn look Tali knew all too well entered Garrus' expression. "Usually I'm all for fun and games, but we need to be ready for the next mission," he said. "So get your quarian butt off from that seat and let's go."

"You're such a spoilsport," Tali pouted, taking one last sip from her drink before standing up. As soon as her feet hit the floor, the ground seemed to dip heavily to one side like she was being lifted by biotics. Before Tali could fall, a hand reached out and tugged her by the wrist, steadying her.

But the hand didn't let go. Suddenly she found that she wasn't on the ground at all, but instead surrounded by something hard and cold to the touch.

"Joker told me once that women liked to be carried, but I thought he was only talking about humans. I guess I was wrong."

"Garrus, let me _down_!" Tali took a swing at Garrus' head as he began to walk, but her coordination was severally off and she hit her own mask instead, sending a _boing_ reverberating in her helmet.

With a laugh that made her want to take another swing at him, Garrus weaved his way with surprising ease through the crowd of dancing patrons. He headed towards the exit. "How many drinks did you have again?"

"Eh…enough to get a salarian mad."

"That isn't saying much. All you have to do is start poking at their terminals, and before you know it, you'll have a gun pointed in your face."

"Keelah, I thought that salarian was going to incinerate Shepard or something," Tali mumbled, remembering when they had to land on the salarians' home planet to find the krogan female, Eve. Deciding that it would be more comfortable, the quarian hesitantly looped her hands around Garrus' neck instead of letting them hang uselessly. Garrus did the turian equivalent of raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, shut up," she murmured sheepishly, though she didn't remove her grip.

Garrus simply chuckled as the two stepped out of Purgatory, taking a deep, refreshing breath of air that wasn't filled with the stench of sweat and alcohol. The night was surprisingly quiet for such a bustling city. The only sounds were the wind whistling through the colossal buildings and the rush of space cars, which radiated streams of light from their engines as they glided through the night like racing fireflies.

As the two walked towards Cortez's space car, which he had lent Garrus for the night, Tali looked up and sighed. Garrus noticed this and glanced down at her.

"Something the matter?"

Tali shook her head; it felt strangely heavy for whatever reason. "It's just something silly…"

"I'm taking that as a, 'Yes, something is bothering me. I would love to tell you all about it, Garrus.'" He tapped the side of her arm, prompting her to speak.

After a moment's hesitation she looked up again, the light of the city reflecting off her mask's glassy surface. "I miss the stars," she admitted in a quiet voice, as if too embarrassed to say it any louder. "All of the Citadel's lights and neon signs completely blot out the stars."

"Life in a city isn't like the life in a space ship," Garrus said. "Or, in your case, the flotilla."

"Sad but true. On the flotilla—or even the Normandy—I could just look out a window and see billions of stars, so close I could pluck one out of space. Don't you miss seeing that when you're on the Citadel?"

"You forget that I used to work at C-Sec," he reminded her, "which just so happens to be located on the Citadel."

Tali groaned. "Keelah, that's right. How could I forget that?"

"Especially after _all_ of those elevator rides," he said slyly. "You know, when you would tell me about the flotilla and—"

"Still got a shotgun," she cut him off. "I may be drunk, but I can still shoot."

"Nevermind, then," he said quickly. "But, yeah, the lack of stars is one of the downsides of the Citadel. Though they're good to look out, they're also useful to find out your location if you don't know where you are. In a turian's training, you're required to memorize the major star constellations in the galaxy so you always know where you are."

Shaking her head, Tali made a disappointed _'tsk'_ sound. "Why do turians have to complicate everything? You can't just look at something and admire its beauty. _Noooo_, you have to figure out its _strategic_—" she used her fingers to place imaginary quotation marks around the word— "qualities and see if you can calibrate it."

Garrus' expression was of mock-indignation when he replied, "Well, excuse me for trying to find out an item's usefulness."

By now they had reached the space car. Garrus put Tali down, making sure she wouldn't stumble, before getting into his seat. He sat behind the wheel (obviously) and slammed the driver's door shut while Tali did the same on her side. Then he started the engine and followed the rest of the space cars. Unfortunately, it took only a few minutes to realize the traffic wasn't going to let them arrive at the Normandy anytime soon.

Garrus let out a long, irritated sigh, his talons tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. It was going to be a long ride.

A space car weaved in and out through the other vehicles, cut in front of Garrus, and shot him a rude gesture all the while. "Same to you!" Garrus returned the gesture, groaned, then slammed his hand down on the steering wheel with more force than necessary. With another resigned sigh, he said, "Tali, can you call Joker to tell him that we're going to be late?"

There was a long silence before Garrus glanced at the quarian. Tali had her head propped up into the palm of her hand, leaning against the window. A muffled snoring came from where she sat.

_Great, just great,_ Garrus thought morosely. So there were two options: be a gentleman and let her sleep, or wake her up so he wouldn't have to suffer the agonizing drive alone. The choice was obvious.

"Tali, look, Grunt is eating a salarian's liver!"

* * *

**To be continued…**


End file.
